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Also known as why I choose to be wary of badly written fanfiction/Fifty Shades of Grey.

By the way, the books are terrible, as is the movie. I wouldn’t feel the need to bring it up if it weren’t for the massive outcry that it portrays BDSM in the wrong way. If human beings were an intelligent species, then this would go without saying; this is literally fanfiction from Twilight. A number of things should become apparent from this knowledge; A, it features an average ordinary girl who has the personality of a dishcloth, and a Heathcliff.

As for why I despise Heathcliff, let us leave that for another random blog post. That might take too long.

B, It is pure fantasy. The entire purpose for fanfiction is so that fans can create the story that they want from the given source material. Aka, FANTASY. Whether or not it applies to aforementioned source material/reality does not matter.

C, More often than not…the fanfiction isn’t that good. Especially fanfiction that’s based on a typical young adult novel that involves romance. Because the writer in question (I’d put writer in inverted commas if it weren’t for the backlash I’d receive from nonexistent readers for the characterisation) is often prone to creating an idealised version of themselves as the character. This is called a Mary Sue, and it’s that stereotype that makes up the Bellas and Anas in the world. Anyway, the reason why this is bad for stories is that when the story revolves around aforementioned Mary Sue, it creates an atmosphere where you already know what’s going to happen. Things will always wind up in her favour, whether she actually deserves it or not. Supporting cast will always support her, apart from obvious antagonists. Eventually, you’ll get sick of the story, and the Mary Sue. Or worse, you’ll love her, and act exactly the same way.

Okay, so now you’ve realised these three things, this is what you should understand from this; this is a fantasy, and therefore, you should not take this as a literal representation of BDSM, or relationships for that matter. It’s okay to enjoy it, and to be curious about dominant-submissive relationships, but you have to remember that this is a work of fiction, and the rules of reality don’t apply here.

This would go without saying if humans in this universe had more than two brain cells. However…it appears it’s not the case. As a result, impressionable women are seeing Christian Grey as their ideal man, which is not a healthy thing to be believing.

I think the appeal is partly because of the ‘bad boy that can be tamed by the sweet girl’ trope. Like Beauty and the Beast. For Fifty Shades of Grey, it’s the ‘shattered individual is healed by the sweet girl’s vagina’ trope. And I can understand the appeal; people want to believe in something as idealistic as love. Love is great. Love makes you human. Love also makes you stupid. This is why I recommend that people take this stuff with a pinch of salt, because the main message being projected towards the audience is basically “anything is possible, because…love”. One can only imagine the consequences of this when it comes to impressionable humans. Especially girls. I’m not stereotyping; like it or not, the majority of romance dramas are aimed at women, and obviously they’ll identify with the movie more than men will.

So what are these aforementioned consequences of thinking this way for silly humans? As a member of a private girls college who observes the actions of her classmates on a daily basis when there’s nothing to do, I can provide several situations. Candy (yes, I’m intentionally using names from the What Not to Call Your Daughter List) may acquire the idea that if she ‘loves’ her lazy, emotionally distant boyfriend, he’ll end up changing for the better. Lexi might start thinking that she’s not worth anything unless she has a hot guy to love. And Krystal could decide to go along with her boyfriend’s selfishness and wandering penis, because…love.

I am an extremely cynical human being.

Then again, at least I’m not stupid.

Here’s the general gist of what I’m trying to tell you all.

You’re not a slut/idiot/perve/ditz for reading or watching Fifty Shades of Grey. Curiosity is part of human nature, and it’s okay to read naughty books from time to time. And it’s also okay to try out new things that you might come across in the book if it strikes your fancy. Personally, one of my limits is getting caned or whipped, for obvious reasons, but I do enjoy trying new things and seeing what I enjoy and what I don’t in a safe environment.

You can enjoy reading about sex, even if it is considered badly written. I remember Daniel and I used to play a drinking game in Delirium where we had to read it aloud for as long as possible without laughing, and the other person had to down drinks until the reader cracked a smile, (the game was surprisingly balanced; between my ability to read faster and therefore laugh earlier and Daniel’s ability to gulp a glass of garnet dew in a matter of seconds, we ended up drinking the same amount per turn). Anyway, that was my way of enjoying it, and I invite you to enjoy it however you choose to.

It’s okay to like it for what it is; fiction. This is not a guide to living and it shouldn’t be interpreted as such. BDSM should not be an excuse or an outlet for abuse, and love should never be an excuse for anything.

And on a shorter note; to all the feminists who scream negative crap about women in general who willingly choose to play the submissive role in BDSM relationships, feminism is about women having the right to engage in whatever activity they choose to without judgement, and you’re imposing on this right by saying that sexually submitting to a man makes you nothing more than a plaything. Women should be allowed to express their sexuality however they want; they are just as entitled to be dominant as they are to be submissive. They can choose be sexually active or celebate. They can choose to only have sex with the man (or woman) they’re married to, or they can choose to have multiple partners. THATS NOT UP TO YOU.

I jump as the man behind me speaks suddenly. After quickly looking around for humans, I speak. “What do you mean?”

“I know you know,” he says flatly.

“About what?”

“About what just happened. Come on. What do you think?”

I turn around slowly. “Kaya…disappeared. After someone crashed into the palace, right?”

“…you know that someone, don’t you?”

“…”

“Who was it? Did you see them?” I can see that Daniel’s trying to keep his voice as non threatening as possible, but I can still feel the tension radiating from him.

“…I didn’t need to,” I whisper. “There’s no one else it would be.”

“Who?”

“He killed her,” I say to him. “How could you not consider him?”

He’s silent for a moment. “You mean…”

“Yes.”

“But he’s in hiding. Why would he steal Kaya?”

“I don’t know. Because he can?” I feel drained from this conversation. Daniel’s eyes won’t leave my face, as if I’m hiding something. Which I am.

“You know what Kaya’s capable of,” I explain. “If he could control Kaya, imagine what he could do.”

It dawns on him. Even though this is more of an attempt to sway his attention away from the truth of her death, it is a genuine concern, not just for him, but for Kaya’s world. Not that I care. “You’ve got a point,” he says. “With Kaya’s body on life support, it wouldn’t take much for someone like him to reanimate her. She’d be a true weapon then.” My blood runs cold at the image of Kaya taking a step like a puppet dangling from a string, so much closer to reality than he realises. “I don’t understand why he’d leave her on the lake after killing her though,” he argues. “Why would he let the enemy take her back only to retrieve her again? As a result, we now have new information concerning Esper tech. Not to mention it would be a more effective strategy to leave us in the dark on Kaya’s status.”

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s just showing off. Showing us that he can infiltrate the castle. Putting us on edge.”

“Why not just kill us then?”

I frown. I didn’t take Daniel to be the type to not percieve this. “Obviously he wants to torture us before he kills us. It would be more fun for him that way.” I let my disgust of the monster show on my face.

Daniel just stares at me. “Since when do you know how psychos work?” he enquires.

I shake my head. “I’ve been watching monsters longer than you,” I told him. “Their insanity isn’t that hard to pick up on.”

Daniel accepts my excuse. “Still, it’s a big risk, letting us take her back. Would he really gamble the goals of the Espers for a quick thrill?” he contemplates.

“He’s not working for them,” I object too quickly. Immediately, Daniel’s face becomes suspicious again. I quickly clarify. “I think he hates them as much as he hates us,” I say. “He has no side but his own.” Just like Kaya.

Daniel watches me for a moment, and I worry that he’s picked up on what I didn’t say. For a moment, I feel guilty that I’m keeping this from him. If our roles were reversed, I’d want to know the truth. Then he speaks again. “He’s like you then,” he concludes. “No other concern except for himself. Maybe it’s not just Kaya’s viewpoint that makes you understand him.”

His words are cruel, and they sting as if he slapped me. Why was that necessary? I look away from him, gritting my teeth in silence. One thing was for certain; any pity or guilt I felt for him immediately vanished.

That incident didn’t stay on my mind for long. Things at home were horrible, and though Daniel’s words stayed in my head long afterwards, I focused on other things.

Then he found out.

I didn’t speak to him when he appeared in my room. I never did. I always waited for him to start talking. And then he did. “Suicide,” he said flatly.

My stomach leapt.

“It was suicide,” he repeated. “Kaya knew she was going to die. And she did it anyway.” He stared at me, no set expression on his face. Then his eyes narrowed. “How long did you know?”

“…from the beginning,” I admitted, closing my eyes and shutting off my computer. I pushed it aside and sat up.

“Why?” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“She didn’t want me to.”

“That’s not for her to decide,” he argued. “For gods sake, she was your friend too. How could you just accept this?”

I was shaking. “What could’ve I done?” I pleaded. “I couldn’t go into your world, remember? What could’ve I done to stop her?” Daniel continued to glare at me. “You don’t think I tried to stop her? After she told me, I begged her not to do this. But she ignored me, and then she was gone…” I took in a deep breath. “I knew her plan,” I admitted. “But there was only so much I could do. After she left, there was no way-“

“You could’ve told me!” he shouted. “I could’ve stopped her!”

“You would’ve. And then Kaya would been thrown in prison for conspiracy to high treason,” I retorted.

“But that bastard would still be in jail. They would’ve released Kaya-“

“They killed her mother!” I blurted out. “And they wanted Kaya dead too, five years ago. Don’t you get it? This way, those men will die at the hands of the Espers. This is her revenge.”

“She wouldn’t give her life-“

“She would. You know that, don’t you?”

“I…” Daniel’s face was mixed with rage and despair. That’s when I figured it. He already knew that she’d give her life for this. That wasn’t the issue. It was that Kaya would throw him to the sharks too, despite everything they went through together.

“Daniel…” The name was strange on my tongue. I had never called him by name before, and it was awkward. “I’m sorry,” I said at last. There wasn’t really anything else I could say.

Daniel quietly looked up at me. Immediately, I tensed up, already anticipating what was coming. And I was right. “Of course, it would be fine for you,” he spoke darkly. “None of this effects you. Even if Kaya’s dead. All you have to do is sit back and watch everyone die. That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

I had gotten up from my bed and had been pacing up and down my room for a while now, randomly picking up stuff from the floor, as if that would stop his words from hurting. He went on. “Nereida, Kaya, you’ve watched people die before. You’ll probably cheer when one of the Espers tears my fucking head off-“

That’s when I swung around, my fist smashing against his face. He stumbled back, caught off guard. Immediately, I backed away slightly, waiting for him to react. I just knew he’d get back at me. I knew that it was only a matter of seconds before I was lying on the ground getting the shit kicked out of me. I had no idea what possessed me to hit him.

Moments passed, and I realised that the blows I had been bracing myself for never came. Daniel just stood there, watching me, as if I was some strange beast that had escaped its cage. He once stared at Kaya the same way, in fact. “I deserved that,” he said finally. “I…shouldn’t have-“

“Shut the fuck up,” I hissed suddenly. His eyes widened. “How dare you. What do you take me for? I’m not…I’m not this twisted psycho who gets off on watching people die!” I was steadily losing control, but I didn’t give a crap. “Do you think I enjoy being able to do nothing? Do you think I’m happy to just sit there while people I care about die?! Why…” I tightened my hands into fists. “Why do you think I’d want you to die?!”

I could’ve slapped him for the incredulous look on his face. “You don’t?”

“No…” The anger quickly evaporated, and I was left trying to hold back what seemed like an endless supply of tears. “Don’t be stupid. If you died…” There’d be no one left to help me, I finished in my head. But I wouldn’t say them out loud to him.

“…I spent the last few minutes verbally abusing you. You should hate me,” Daniel countered.

“I don’t.” I feel tired all of a sudden, and I sit down on the bed. “Kaya…was important to you too. I can understand how you feel.”

“….how do you do that?” he asked quietly.

“…do what?”

“Justify it. How can you allow people to do things to you that you can just sweep under the rug?”

I thought about that for a moment. It was just so…natural, that I never even questioned it until now. “It’s just…” I struggled to say, “it’s not like there aren’t more horrible people than them.”

“Yeah. It is.” If I looked at Daniel, I would burst into tears, so I kept my eyes firmly closed. “You were right, you know. About people who can’t do anything. Sometimes you can hate people so much just because they were involved and couldn’t, or didn’t, do anything to stop it.”

“…you mean…”

“…I’m sorry,” I said to him in a whisper. “I need to be alone.”

“You’re shaking…”

“I don’t care. Just go. Please,” I begged.

For the first time since I had known him, Daniel did as I asked. I was finally left alone to shed the tears that I had locked in for the entire conversation. And for the rest of the night, I lay there, holding my knees and hating myself.

Yes! I haven’t posted for ages. In my own defence, I’ve had very little time for writing, and I’ve got very good reasons why. It’s been nearly two weeks since I posted, and so much has happened, both in Reality and Delirium.

So let’s go! Starting with Reality. Because I’ve written a lotta stuff about Delirium, stuff which is not going to go to waste. And no Bad Dog, there’s no smut, so don’t even go there.

Okay…Reality.

Exams

Erghhhhh, I’m dying here. So far I’ve finished my Literature exam and my Religion exam. Literature was okay, however, I found myself doing the same thing I do for every essay, which is repeat the same thing over and over again to make sure my point gets across. Either way, I think I did okay. Hopefully it’s at least a C. And Religion was better than expected, though I really don’t know how well I did. I could’ve done awesomely (which would only happen if the one marking my exam was a bit tipsy) or I could’ve done absolutely shitty. But I answered all the questions. Just not sure if I answered them the right way.

Tomorrow is Human Bio and Maths. On the same day. And I regret not going to school today and studying. You see, when you don’t have an exam, you don’t have to turn up at school. Which is great. But I really need to study for Human Bio and Maths, because I’ve missed a lot of lessons due to Delirium. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve missed plenty of other subjects too. But unlike Lit and Religion, I can’t just conjure something out of my incredibly vivid imagination, I need to learn facts. And looking back now, had I been given a choice, I definitely would’ve gone to school to study.

Unless mum was there too. Fortunately that’s not allowed, otherwise mum would always turn up at school, screaming at me to clean my fucking room.

Mum has been refusing to let me study. Well, she goes through a process about it. Step 1, she asks “Can you clean your room if you have time?” Step 2, she comes in and yells at me because my room’s not clean. This happens usually ten minutes after Step 1. When I object to this, she can take two paths. Step 3A is to refuse to believe that I’m studying, because obviously, I’m on my iPad! Which happens to have my fucking textbooks on it. Or she can choose the other option, Step 3B, which is essentially a guilt trip. You can kind of visualise it, you know those arguments your parents give you that begin with “When I was your age”? It’s like that, only far less effective because it’s far from logical. Mum says something along the lines of “When I was your age, it didn’t matter if I finished exams or not.” Or something like that. Having another world in your head is extremely tempting at times like that…

Modelling

Had another photoshoot on Sunday. Theme was Apocalypse, but for once, I had had enough of zombies (gasp!). Instead, I was going as the Grim Reaper. Which was fricking awesome.

What was even more fricking awesome was the death scythe one of the Props guys made me. It wasn’t real, but it looked it. Best $55 I had ever spent. EVER. When I was carrying it around, I scared a few photographers and models. On the side, Daniel told me ‘Your Cat Madigan is showing’, which made me remember that I was still in Reality. It also reminded me that I shouldn’t stick my tongue out at what would look like an empty space to ordinary humans.

Highlight of the shoot was when I got together with one of the zombies and took him for a walk in the city. After locating a leash, the Grim Reaper went skipping down the alleyway with her pet zombie in tow, where they proceeded to traumatise many a childling. ‘Twas a wonderful day. Not so much for the little kids, but yeah.
The photos are looking pretty cool so far, I’m still waiting for the rest to be posted. There’s another photoshoot next Sunday, theme is Autumn. Still awaiting other photos from a test shoot I did and a glamour one. Why do photographers take so long….

Oh, and also, I did a fashion show where I got my hair coloured. The colour’s not that different, but it shows in the sunlight. It’s just a colour rinse. And I got to wear a wedding dress, though to be honest, I wouldn’t wear it to my own wedding, though I’d definitely want to wear it around the house. Liquid silk feels really nice… But anyway, it was 1920s themed, and though it was very pretty, it reminded me that I had no boobs and no waist when I looked at it in the mirror. Sure, I looked skinnier, but it gave me more of a boyish look.

Not that I’d ever get married anyway.

No, Daniel.

“What? You wish to live in sin for the rest of your life?”

“Pfffft. Sin, schmin. Besides, I promised Delamore not till 23.”

“I thought that was for virginity.”

“Hmm…you’re right. I should ask her about that. Actually, nah. She’d want to come to the wedding.”

“Let’s just agree that our relationship is fine the way it is and move on. Preferably before you start going on about wedding dresses.”

“I don’t go on about them, I just draw them.”

“Moving. On.”

“Fine.”

X

My second cousin Xenia came to stay for two weeks three weeks ago. I’d met her once at Christmas last year, but that was the only time if had met her before she stayed with us. She’s 19, three years older than my Reality self, but barely months older than my real age. There was enough resemblance between us that we could tell that we shared some genetic material, but that only extended to our hair and our tiny hands.

Mum said she was prettier than me, and she was probably right. She had nice brown eyes and light brown skin with no freckles or scars on it. Personally, I think mum liked Xenia because she wasn’t a kleptomaniac or a schizophrenic, not to mention she was an obedient daughter to her own parents, as an only child. Xenia grew close to mum when she first came, as Tig and I were always at school.

I never knew much of what she thought of me. I knew what she thought of my brother; Tig was always mouthing off about Mum, and she yelled at him, saying that she wanted to slap him. She and I barely interacted though, outside our family outings. The most we talked was when we went to an art exhibit in Rockingham on the beach, and I started using my artist/Literature skills to deduce the meanings behind the various sculptures before us.

“What does Indulgence mean?” she asked, when we approached several giant cupcake sculptures.

“I think…” I tried to put it as simply as I could. “It means to…take pleasure in something. Like…eating cupcakes. You take pleasure in eating- HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!”

I had thought that the long things sticking out of the cupcakes were meant to be wafers, but upon closer inspection, the end of the ‘wafer’ was shaped like a foot, which meant… “Legs,” I gasped. Xenia watched me incredulously as I started laughing. “There’s legs in the cupcake!” I crowed. “Oh my god…”

“You are strange,” Xenia said.

“Thankyou,” I returned. “Do you want to hear what this means?”

She looked back at the statue and stared at in quiet unease. “I don’t really want to…” she announced. “I liked it better when it was just ordinary cupcakes.”

We got along okay, but we never really bonded much, not like she and Mum seemed to anyway. She liked my drawings, well, the ones which weren’t of psycho zombie dragons, and she came to my modelling events with mum, but we never had much of a private conversation about things. She was pretty solitary when it came to our family, and I was up in the clouds most of the time. I also found her a bit too much like my mother to trust her much, even though she was from my father’s side of the family.

There was one time though, at the bus stop in the city. She came with me, as she was going on a tour to see the pinnacles, and she had to catch the ferry in the city. We didn’t speak on the bus, but when I got off, I felt horrible suddenly and stumbled off, grabbing onto the fence to keep steady. Daniel was there in a heartbeat, and helped me calm down from my panic attack. I was nearly in tears, but I finally stopped shaking.

“Cat?” Xenia said, and that’s when I realised she was right there, watching me. I looked up. “Are you alright?” she enquired.

“I’m fine,” I said.

She frowned, but didn’t say anything for a while. I was walking her to the ferry when she asked again. “Was that your…” She searched for a word. “Episode?”

“…yeah, little bit.”

“What…is it is?”

After hesitating, I decided to tell her. It was a word that she would most likely forget later on anyway. “Schizophrenia,” I told her. “Or some form of it.”

“Oh. How bad?”

I took that as a sign that she didn’t know what it was. Good. “Pretty bad,” I told her. “I…I don’t have long.”

Xenia frowned. “I thought…it was because of your mother.” I was puzzled. “She hit you across the face last night,” she went on. When my eyes widened, she smiled. “Your cheek is a little red,” she said.

“Right.”

“Are you alright?”

I gave a bright smile. “No.”

I left her at the ferry. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell her about it. It’s just that I didn’t think she’d understand. She seemed so positive about things, always talking about how thankful for life we should be, and she was so close to Mum that I didn’t think she’d believe half the things I had to say. Or maybe she would believe them, and take them straight to Mum, the last person I wanted to know.

We got along. That’s all I can say.

So that’s it from Reality. I’m trying to catch up on the things from Delirium as best as I can. It’s gotten quiet again, so hopefully I’ll be able to catch up.

Also, Mum found her phone and apologised for belting my across the face.

I don’t see Kaya as often as some people think. She’s only in my head when A, I have a bad episode in Delirium and she comes in so people don’t hear me dying, or B, when she’s in a very bad mood.

Which is why, on Friday, I got to spend most of the day with the bitch. Because I had a very special photoshoot that day.

It doesn’t look like me, she informed me. If you’re going to impersonate me, you might at least try.

“You try talking to her,” I pleaded with Daniel. He just ignored me, and continued looking through my iPad. “Found anything yet?”

“Nothing you’d be looking for,” he replied. “Mostly brightly coloured stuff, none of them scream ‘grim reaper’ to be honest.”

“You’re in the wrong section then. Just scroll down till you reach the dark pictures.”

“There’s a lot of shit on this thing, Cat Madigan, you ever think of clearing it?”

“All the time. And every time I think, What if I need to refer to it? It’s a vicious cycle.”

Why do you even do this to yourself?

“I like modelling. It gives me self confidence, and I need self confidence.”

You have the eye of a king on you, she reminded me. What more do you want?

“He’s…” I nearly said not real, but I’m already on Kaya’s bad side. “I’m not interested,” I settled for saying.

Liar.

“Kaya…” Daniel said warningly.

“I’m genuinely not interested Kaya. He’s nice, but he’s got the attention span of a cat.”

Pot. Calling. Kettle. Kaya’s voice was as dry as a bone.

“You know what I mean,” I groaned. “I don’t think I’d be able to talk with him the way I’d want to talk to someone. Not to mention, he seems like the type that would only desire someone till he had her.”

In other words, you don’t want to get hurt.

“No, that’s not the issue. The issue is that he’s not the sort of person I’d be interested in as a…what word would you guys use?”

“Lover?” Daniel suggested.

“…really? Is your whole mind entirely focused on sex?”

“Hey, you wanted a word for it.”

Concubine?

Both Daniel and I widened our eyes. “Kaya…” I said. “Please tell me you know what that word means.”

Of course I do.

“No offence to Cat, but I think the term concubine would refer to her rather than our beloved king,” Daniel pointed out.

I grimaced. “Not happening. I’ve had enough of that sort of thing.”

“For now.”

Before I could ask what Daniel meant, Kaya spoke up. There’s not really a word for it, she mused. Normally there’s a contract to marry, and perhaps courtship after that, if the husband wishes. More often it’s not. I could hear the distaste in her voice. And after that, there is marriage….maybe you could be his sweetheart?

“I’m not his frigging sweetheart!” I hissed.

What’s gotten into her? Her tone is as if she has never snapped at me in the whole duration of her existence.

“Leave her, Kaya,” Daniel said wearily. “Both of us aren’t good with that sort of thing right now.”

“It can’t be, there has to be something.” I took the iPad out of his hands.

“No!”

“…well, I see why you haven’t been finding anything.” I hurled it back at his chest.

“Ow!”

Before I could say anything more, we hear shouting. “Not again…” I groaned.

What’s going on now?

“Do I ever know what’s on with them?” I retorted. “Tig’s not like me, Kaya, he talks back. He’s under the impression that he’s intelligent and that screaming back insults makes a difference.”

What’s he done?

Suddenly, I heard a loud slamming sound, and my brother sobbing. Mum screamed at him, and I could make out the words How dare you, and Little shit. “It’s sickening…” Daniel said stiffly, trying not to show anything.

Are you alright Cat?

“I’m used to it.” I took the clothes out of my cupboard and laid them on the bed for the afternoon.

That wasn’t answering my question, she observed.

“Would you answer honestly if you were me?”

Mum charged into the room suddenly, without warning. Daniel froze, even though he’d be able to move freely and not be seen by her. “Your brother,” she announced, “has stolen most of the Easter eggs.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“And he’s not owning up to it.”

“Again. My astonishment is extremely lacking.”

“Hmm.” She frowned at me. “It wasn’t you, was it?”

“No.”

“How do I know it wasn’t?”

I groaned. “I don’t know how I’m meant to prove myself innocent.” I turned to Daniel as Mum went on a tangent, and I saw his face going red, even though he was barely moving.

After what seemed an eternity, she finally left my room. Is she always like this? Kaya questioned.

“Not always.” That makes it harder though, I add mentally.

Hmm…

“So your brother’s stealing again,” Daniel observed.

“Seems like. You’d think he’d learn by now.”

“I don’t agree with what your parents do, but your brother is truly a little-”

“Daniel…”

“Fine.” Daniel put his arm around my shoulder. “How are you?”

“Fine.” That’s all I say.

“Kaya…” Daniel said after a while. “You’ve been quiet.”

Oh?

“What do you think?”

Of what?

“Cat’s parents.”

He shouldn’t be punished that way, she said firmly. Not by being thrown against the wall. I grimaced at a similar memory. Sorry Cat.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Kaya…” Daniel’s voice had an odd note to it. “Tell her.”

“What?” I looked at Daniel and frowned. “What aren’t you telling me now?”

He groaned. But when he opened his mouth to say something, Kaya spoke up. It’s fine! She doesn’t need to know.

“…do I want to?” He gestured towards it. “Very well…” I walked over to it and slid the door open. That’s when I saw the tinfoil. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” I span around, as if I expected Kaya to be behind me. “This is what you do when you take over when I’m in Delirium? You steal chocolate?”

I was starving! she protested. You barely eat anything, how can you stand sitting there with an empty belly?

“I eat apples! Apples are good! The chocolates are off limits though!”

Well, I didn’t know that!

“Shit…” I knew my hands were shaking, but I didn’t care. “My brother just got beaten up because of that!”

Cat, I’m so sorry, if I had known that it wasn’t allowed, I never would’ve done it, I swear.

I just sighed. “Now what?”

“Discard evidence,” Daniel directed. “Put the wrappers in the bathroom, in the cupboard. No one knows who put them though, no one gets the blame.”

“Or we both get the blame and we both get walloped till one of us confesses,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, well, I don’t see any better choices. Unless you’d like to confess that your dead demon friend who possesses you took the chocolates.”

Kaya scoffed. Demons are pathetic.

“Exactly my point.”

“Oh don’t you two start,” I hissed. I took the wrappers and crumpled them up and put them in a plastic bag. As soon as they got put in the cupboard, I hurried back to my room. “There. Hopefully things will end there.”

It resembled Kaya a lot, but not precisely. But no one except us would know that.

Kaya’s hair covered her forehead entirely; whereas the wig I had gotten from Comic-con only had little bits covering my face.

Kaya’s skin was pale grey in colour, and I remember that covering the sides of her face and her arms were a number of random scales. What made it even more frightening was the black protruding veins which were so hard to ignore. The makeup, of course, wasn’t anything like that. She was still quite pale, but the makeup was for a natural skin tone. It was almost like Kaya had been humanised, somewhat.

The contact lenses I had were close to Kaya’s eyes. But they were only contacts, so of course, they weren’t an exact match. Kaya hated her eyes. Once, when she was younger, they were a pretty silver, but after her arrest and confinement, they became a bright, glowing violet to match the poison. They could’ve been lovely, but after what Kaya went through, it was rare for her to show any emotion other than emptiness or rage, and I don’t blame her.

You’re also fatter than me, Kaya informed me.

“Yeah, well, that’s because I haven’t been starved for eight or so years,” I retorted. That shut her up.

This is similar to what I wore when I escaped with Daniel, she mused, looking at my costume. But my hair was long then.

“I can barely remember you with long hair though,” I told her. “You cut it off not long after.”

I know…

I giggled. “I remember their faces when you did that.”

She laughed at the memory. It was as if I had slaughtered their children.

“In a way, it was. Those maids must’ve spent hours brushing the mats out of your hair.”

I don’t regret my decision. There’s a hint of mischief in her tone. Daniel was the funniest though. He was trying to comfort the poor women.

“Aww….Daniel used to be a gentleman!”

He still is. He just acts perverted to irritate you.

“Why?”

You’re funny when you’re irritated.

“Not always.” I showed her my memory of murdering that woman.

There’s a difference between irritated and infuriated, Kaya said. You need to forgive yourself.

“Then it will become easier. I don’t want to do that again.”

Who are you? she asked me suddenly.

“I’m…not entirely sure. Who am I? What am I? Am I a different species now?”

Look. Kaya cleared her throat. Your name is Cat Madigan. It’s not the name you were born with, but you’re not the same person from when you were born, are you? She went on before I could speak. You’ve changed a lot over the years. When I met you, you were a quiet, innocent young woman. A disaster waiting to happen.

And then I met you again, with Daniel. You were scared, terrified actually. What astounded me was that you trusted me over Daniel, who is obviously the less frightening article.

“Daniel used to be an asshole though.”

He’s changed a lot too. He didn’t like you because he thought you were some weak little snivelling thing.

“And I’m not?”

“Definitely not.” I jumped at the sound of Daniel’s voice. “Hey.” He waved at me.

“Hello Daniel. Can you tell me what I am? Daniel?”

He’s taking in the sight of me. “Right…sorry. We’re going to leave in ten minutes,” I told him. “Wanna come?”

Daniel smiled. “Would I go anywhere else?”

I’ll be off then. With that, the pain in my head vanished.

“Can you answer my question then?” I asked Daniel.

He sighed, and knelt down as if I were a child half my size. “My dear lady,” he said, looking up at me. “You are about to witness a remarkable event.” He inhaled. “I agree with Kaya.”

I managed to stop myself from laughing. “I see.”

“It’s true.”

“That…must’ve been hard on you.”

“…you can laugh now if you want.”

I grinned. “Thankyou.”

“Now. You wanted to know who you are? You are Cat Madigan. Not Freak or Kaya or Bitch, or anything else.”

“Aren’t I? Think about what I’ve done. I’m going down the same road as Kaya.” I remembered her last moment, on the Lake of Ghosts. “I’ll end up like her, one day. I can feel it.”

“No.” Daniel took my hand. “There’s a very big difference between the two of you.”

“Which is?”

“Remorse,” he answered. “Kaya killed men she didn’t know and brushed it aside. She wanted revenge on their kind, so she became one of them.”

“And I’m not? I’ve gone through ‘treatments’ too, Daniel. I’m a freak, and I can kill just as easily as she can.”

“No. You won’t.” Daniel stood up and drew me in for a hug. “Because you can see the good in people as well. Kaya’s disillusioned because of everything that’s happened, but you still have faith, no matter how little. And that guilt stops you, makes you pause before you do something you’ll regret.”

“No it doesn’t,” I argued. “I’ve killed before that woman. And now I’ve lost count.”

“I know that. Yes, you’ve killed people.” He grimaced. “But you’ve always been as guilty as hell afterwards. And that’s the difference. Kaya let herself become a monster. You’re more reluctant to let go of your humanity. And that’s who you are, Cat Madigan; human.”

“Freak,” I insisted.

“Freaks are human too,” he reminded me. “Sometimes more than most humans. And this world of mine needs some humanity left in it.”

I pick it up gingerly. “Basically, whenever it cries, I tag it on with this bracelet. And then I have to stop it crying.”

“By smashing it against the wall?”

I roll my eyes. “The basic three are changing, feeding and burping. If it doesn’t stop after you try those three, you pick it up and walk it around until she quietens.”

“…so they don’t shit?”

“Nope,” I say cheerfully.

“Still.” Daniel stretches his arms. “It’s gonna be hell.”

“I can handle hell.”

He grins. “Ten dollars says that you’re going to change your mind.”

3:45pm:

“I am officially a grandfather!” Papa Willis announced to our friends as I carried Mia into their view.

Their reactions were automatic. They immediately started to try and kill it.

“Go to sleeeeeeeep,” Smith growled, holding his hand over Mia’s face.

“Can I hold it up by it’s leg?” Blondie asked eagerly.

“What time does it start?” MJ questioned.

“It doesn’t turn on till 5:30.”

“…so I’d be allowed to snap it’s neck to the side?”

“They’re going to be awesome godparents,” Daniel said from his corner. “I can wait for you to get pregnant.”

“…wait, what?”

9:29pm

“I swear to fuck…” I growled.

The baby was crying. Again.

“What does it want this time?” Daniel stirred.

I put the ‘bottle’ to the baby’s mouth and the sucking sounds replaced the wailing. “How many times has it been fed?” I murmured.

“I dunno…three? Maybe four. I dunno,” said Daniel. “At least you got it before it started shrieking this time.”

Suddenly, Tig barged in. In his pompous voice, he proclaimed, “The uncle of the child is here to assist the bitchy mother,” already stepping into my room.

“PISS OFF!” I roared at him, causing him to dart away. Daniel started laughing, but he stopped when my mother came storming in afterward. He immediately darted into the ensuite.

She went on to tell me how she had been ‘abused’ by two of our friends, who apparently said that Tig and I were lazy, ungrateful little shits. “And they’re right!” she exclaimed. “When I had you, I didn’t have anyone to help me, your father was off flying everywhere and my parents were in another frigging state!”

“You’re just going to sit there and be lazy the whole weekend!” she told me. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t throw it out the window.”

“Because I actually care about getting a good mark,” I retorted. Deep down, I was deeply worried about her carrying out that threat. If I kept it in a death grip, she wouldn’t be able to take it, but if she started hitting me…

She just scoffed. “Lucky it’s not a real baby,” she said to me. “Otherwise it’s going to turn into a fucking schizophrenic from the way you’re handling her.”

Daniel’s cry of anger didn’t even echo what I was feeling. GET OUT!” I yelled. There was a pain at the back of my head and everything seemed as if it were fading; I was barely aware of her slamming the door on her way out.

“No!” Daniel caught me as I stumbled, and held me up. “Now is not the time, Cat, wake up!”

“I…can’t…” My sight was going and I was barely holding the baby in my arms. If I dropped it…

The warmth of unconsciousness was beckoning, but I tried to do as Daniel said, focusing on the robot baby and the bottle in my hands. I managed to pull the baby up so that it’s head didn’t fall back, even though my head throbbed when I did so. “That’s right,” Daniel said reassuringly. “Keep your eyes open, and focus on one thing in the room, whatever keeps you here now.”

Slowly, I managed to lift myself out of the blackness, and I collapsed backwards, exhausted. The baby was still sucking. “Shit,” I hissed. I was crying, but I didn’t care. I was too distracted by all the emotions bubbling around inside me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I growled.

Daniel charged out of the room. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he said quickly, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

As Mia was feeding, and I managed to pour out my anger to Papa Willis (round of applause for him, by the way), I realised that Daniel had stopped me from falling into Delirium. The fact that he could do that was astounding; I’ve never had control over my blackouts.

Soon after, Mia stopped drinking from the bottle and let out a happy coo. “Glad someone’s pleased,” I said, putting her in her pod. I lay back, hoping to get another hour of sleep before she awoke again.

I was dozing off when Daniel came back. “Willis okay here?” he asked.

“Think so. Why?”

“It’s nothing. It can wait till tomorrow.” Daniel dropped down on the bed with a groan. “What have you two been talking about?”

“Just that you’re a good husband,” I replied sleepily.

“…we’re married?”

“Not really. But you’ve been more helpful than anyone else,” I told him before drifting off.

10:47pm

“Okay…” I had just put the baby down for what I confirmed was the fourth time that night, and I sprinted back into bed, huddling under the blankets. “It’s cold!”

“Where are they?” I look around, and I speak quickly. “I had a knife, they were coming at me, I, I think I got one…”

Daniel’s gone quiet. “Where is he?”

I point across from us. There’s a big heap of black on the ground, almost like slime. The knife is lying on top of it, black and red on it both. I can remember now; after I ran him through with the blade, the others got behind me. The knife was in him, I was too slow to take it out in time.

“Nothing happened in Delirium,” Daniel says slowly. “But in Reality…” He shows me my bedroom. It’s a mess as usual, but if you look closely, you can see things. Things that were on my bed are now spilled over the floor. Shoes are in random places, no two matching shoes are together.

I open the window, and the mass of black is sucked out. Daniel and I watch it float away, into the world of Reality. After a while, he speaks to me. “Your hand…”

I look at them, and I see it; the red smudge on it, originating from one thin line across my finger. “How did-”

Then I remember again. A knife, no a sword, slashes at me, cutting my hand as I hold it out, as feeble protection. “How did it only get one finger?” I whisper. It’s one singular cut, two centimetres long at most. “Are they gone Daniel?”

He nods. He’s unusually silent, and I’m beginning to panic and wonder what on earth he’s thinking when I see the red marks on my arm.

F R E A K.

“No…”

“Cat…” Daniel warns.

“No!” I crumple. “I didn’t…I didn’t…”

“Listen Cat listen-”

“I promised!” I’m in tears. “I can’t…”

“Cat, they’re not cuts!”

“What?”

He holds my arm in front of me, and I flinch away. “Look Cat,” he whispers.

Reluctantly, I turn my head back. The letters are angry red, but they aren’t dripping. “Scratches, not cuts,” he says soothingly. “It’s not that bad.”

It’s not every day that you accuse non-existent readers of things, but here goes.

WHO TATTLED ON DANIEL???

Yesterday, I came home feeling a lot happier than I had been in a while. I have no idea why, but I was. Which made things even worse later that evening.

During dinner, a notepad had been left in front of where I was eating. One that my mother often used. And, one word caught my eye. HYPNOTHERAPY.

Now, I have a massive aversion to hypnotherapy. I do not like the idea of someone getting inside my head and tampering with the shit in it. Even in the name of therapy. Yes, my opinion of hypnosis may have been influenced by Alice: Madness Returns, but I hated the idea even before the video game.

I have enough trust issues as it is, and I am not comfortable with the idea of someone having the power to lock things away in my head. Nonononononono.

There was more to the note than that. One sentence made me go into full blown panic mode.

Daniel is a devise.

My mother knew about Daniel.

Or at the very least, knew of someone called Daniel who was probably causing me to need something involving hypnotherapy.

In other words, my Daniel, a figment of my imagination.

So. Who tattled on Daniel?

There’s a number of options. Unfortunately.

I’m going to guess my therapists though. Because on that note was details about someone called Mia, who works at CAMHS. Which is where I’m having with someone I’m calling Lolly.

But the thing is, my therapists remind me just about every session that everything I tell them is confidential. Unless I am of threat to myself or to others, they are not allowed to tell anyone anything. Nothing I say leaves my conversation with Lolly.

So someone has lied.

Someone who obviously thought that it was their place to tell my mother about Daniel. Meaning someone who has contact with my mother, and who I’ve trusted with information about Daniel.

They might even read what I’m writing now.

Funny…the one time I get a reader, and they’re betraying my trust.

If you’re reading this, tattletale, read till the last word.

I had never given anyone permission to tell my mother anything. Especially not about Daniel, or what I see. And whoever you are, you had no right to tell anyone anything, no matter what you had thought. I would’ve never said anything to you if I knew you’d tell my mum.

If my mother tells me to go through with the treatment, beats me, yells at me, or screams at me to force me into it, it’s you who’s to blame.